


You're a Sight for Sore Eyes

by sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances
Summary: You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “I just– I don’t know. I’m just anxious lately, I guess. Nothing serious, but it’s keeping me from sleeping.”“Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Everybody gets it, after a while.”You get a little distracted by the line of Dean’s throat as he swallows another gulp of coffee, and you’d be lying if you say you aren’t noticing the way his hands make the mug look so small, and – oof. This is exactly the kind of thing you’ve been trying to avoid.You and Dean– okay, there’s chemistry there. Always a little bit of flirting, but nothing that ever crossed the line.





	You're a Sight for Sore Eyes

When you get back to the bunker after a few days away visiting family, the first thing you want to do is collapse in your bed and sleep for the entirety of the next day.

Instead, you head into the kitchen, hoping to find some coffee before you attempt to journal the last few days. You haven’t been sleeping well, and were trying a dream journal to keep your anxiety in check.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Dean’s deep voice interrupts your thoughts. You turn, seeing him leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, smiling sleepily at you. “You just get in?”

“Yeah. Coffee?”

Dean makes a noise to the affirmative and moves to sit at the table, smiling at you again when you place a mug down in front of him, keeping one for yourself before taking a seat across from him at the table. “You stop to see Jody on your way back?”

You nod, your coffee mug already lifted to your face. You swear even the scent of the coffee makes you feel more awake, and you swear you’re never going to take a good coffeemaker for granted ever again. “Only for a few hours. She was tied up with the girls and I wanted to get back.”

Dean watches you with shrewd eyes, and takes a sip from his own mug. “You haven’t been sleeping.” He says, and you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Kid.” It’s gentle, the way he talks to you, and you kind of hate it. You don’t want him to treat you differently. “Don’t bullshit me, sweetheart.” He says, gruff, but his eyes are still kind.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “I just– I don’t know. I’m just anxious lately, I guess. Nothing serious, but it’s keeping me from sleeping.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Everybody gets it, after a while.”

You get a little distracted by the line of Dean’s throat as he swallows another gulp of coffee, and you’d be lying if you say you aren’t noticing the way his hands make the mug look so small, and – oof. This is exactly the kind of thing you’ve been trying to avoid.

You and Dean– okay, there’s chemistry there. Always a little bit of flirting, but nothing that ever crossed a line into _oh, shit_ territory. Your mind is buzzing in the early morning, though. No wonder you don’t sleep anymore.

“Hello? Should I be offended by how you’re not even trying to make it seem like you’re listening?” Dean asks, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“Sorry. I can’t help it that you’re so fuckin’ boring sometimes–” You say, grinning when halfway through Dean lobs a packet of sugar at you.

“Laugh it up.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before you ask about Mary, and how she’s been doing. Dean’s expression shutters a little bit, the subject still sore, but he tells you how they’re playing Words With Friends together and how she calls once a week. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than the near-downward spiral he’d been going through a few weeks past.

“You should try to get a few winks before Sam digs up another case.” Dean says. “I’ll tell him you just got in so he doesn’t try to wake you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Better yet, sleep in my room. He won’t bother you in there.”

Your heart starts to race at his suggestion but you hope you’re hiding it well. “Sam doesn’t bother me.”

Dean huffs. “When that kid finds a case, he bothers _everyone_.”

“Seriously. My bed is fine.”

Dean shrugs. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I never offer you anything, kiddo.”

Later, after you’ve spent an amazing amount of time in the shower and you finally feel human again after days in the car, you’re walking to your bedroom and pass Dean’s. His words ringing in your head, you stop, looking at his bed.

It has about ten pillows on it, and you know it’s more comfortable than yours. Yours is still the spare mattress that was in the room when the brothers moved into the bunker.

Deciding that it can’t hurt, you detour into Dean’s room and you’re practically asleep before your head hits the pillow.

.

.

.

When you wake up, there’s a warmth at your back that wasn’t there before, and you find yourself turning towards it instinctively.

“Stop moving so much.” A gruff voice says, and your eyes snap open. “Go back to sleep.”

“W-what time is it?” You sputter, trying to think of anything else to say.

“I don’t know. Eleven?”

“Um. What are you doing in here?”

Dean snorts. “This is _my_ bed, sweetheart.”

You elbow him in the stomach, satisfied with the _oof_ he lets out. “Yeah. Why are you in this bed _with_ me?”

“Got tired. Didn’t want to wake you once I saw you were actually asleep.”

You can’t help but smile at him because– _god_ , Dean _cares_ so much. Not just about you, but about everyone. It’s really ridiculously endearing, so you tell yourself you can’t be held responsible for what you do next.

Slowly, giving him plenty of time to back away in case he thinks you’re losing your mind, you lean in, eyes on his mouth. Your gaze flickers up to his eyes just in time to see his eyes darken, and you shiver.

He’s actually the one who kisses you first, and the knowledge of that makes you feel a little bold, opening for him instantly, your hand moving into his hair, making him let out this noise against your mouth that you know you want to hear a hundred more times.

“I gotta say, despite how this looks, I wasn’t really expecting this.” Dean rasps when the two of you finally break apart.

“If it sucked, blame it on my exhaustion.”

“Definitely didn’t suck.” Dean says, grinning.

You chuckle, loving the feeling of Dean’s hands tightening on your waist. “Awesome.”

You and Dean doze for most of the afternoon, tangled up together in his bed, and later you think to yourself that you’ve never been this rested before.


End file.
